


Unhealthy Obsession

by Syrum



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Fingerfucking, Hair-pulling, M/M, Masochism, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sadism, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 11:31:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5625175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrum/pseuds/Syrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Kylo could not deny himself this; it was what he wanted, his reason for being in that room at all, and yet acceptance came with a cost.  He had not yet worked out if he would be able to afford the inevitable price, but there was time yet before he would have to pay up."</p><p>Kylo Ren takes some of his frustrations out on General Hux.</p><p>Set post-TFA, contains spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unhealthy Obsession

He was already there, waiting. It should not have been a surprise; of _course_ he was, he was _always_ waiting, watching, preparing for the moment when he would slip up, leave himself open. Ben- _Kylo Ren_ he reminded himself; Ben Solo was dead. Had screamed in shattered agony at the grunt of betrayal from the father he could not seem to _stop_ loving, no matter how hard he tried. Had died, consumed with white-hot agony, as he watched the man who raised him fall to his inevitable death while he stood, unwavering, upon that bridge.

He couldn’t afford to falter now. Not after everything that had happened, after all he had _accomplished_.

“You seem on edge.” Hux grinned at him, all teeth with no mirth, and the sneer Kylo spared for the man was lost behind the blackened gaze of his helmet. How the General could tell the man was buzzing with pent-up rage while he forced the grief down into the deepest depths of his soul, he did not know, yet he always seemed to manage it, always knew.

“And you should learn to mind your own business.” He hissed back, the mask over his mouth twisting his voice, offering a sinister edge that only made the General’s grin widen and twist up. Kylo might have winced, if not for the intense scrutiny of those blue eyes, boring into him. He hated this man, hated him more than even he hated himself, and yet they always seemed to end up in the same pointless dance.

“Perhaps I can be of some…” He paused, standing from his seat and all but gliding over to stand mere inches from Kylo. “Assistance?” Hux finally finished, and it was clear that any offer of aid from the man was laden with a hidden danger. Kylo could not deny himself this; it was what he wanted, his reason for being in that room at all, and yet acceptance came with a cost. He had not yet worked out if he would be able to afford the inevitable price, but there was time yet before he would have to pay up.

Kylo’s gloved hand shot out, fisting tightly in the coppery strands of Hux’s hair as he _pulled_ , earning a short, sharp yelp that sent something shooting through him, straight down to his groin. His helmet clattered to the floor, forgotten, and Kylo gave the man in his grip no time to recover, to steady himself, before yanking his head back and crashing their mouths together in a kiss that was really more of a bite. He felt Hux’s lower lip split beneath his teeth, copper sliding over his tongue as he lapped at the damage, worrying at it, making it worse.

_More!_

Hands were scrabbling at his clothing, fingers sliding off fabric that hid his form perfectly from sight, Hux unable to gain purchase with his head bent back at an unnatural angle, spine curved as Kylo plundered his mouth with teeth and tongue. He might have been whimpering, neither man was sure, blood pounding in their ears as they seemed to share a pulse. Hux’s coat slid to the floor, forgotten, the soft swish of thick fabric pooling at their feet largely ignored.

It could not last. With a snarl, Kylo forced Hux up against the metal grill that broke the repetition of the steel panels covering much of the base, edges pushing painfully into the man’s cheek, hand still buried in that surprisingly soft hair. For a moment, and only a moment, Kylo allowed himself to wish the glove gone, to feel those coppery locks beneath his fingertips, to touch and caress.

The notion was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, focus shifting to hold Hux in place, the phantom pain of too much pressure on slender limbs mixing with the reality of metal cutting into his skin. Kylo drank down the delicious whimpers the General was producing, watching in a sick fascination as the man tried to twist and pull at the empty weight pushing him forward. The Force was a useful tool for more than simply fighting, and Hux would learn this fact, even if Kylo had to kill him to prove his point.

Not today, though. He had other, more urgent needs to attend to, and killing the General would be rather counter-productive, not to mention unwise, at least for the moment. Instead, Kylo let his hands wander over the slender form before him, losing his gloves as he did so, not wishing to dirty them if he could help it. He loved the way Hux reacted to his touch, pushing into it and pulling away, repulsed by it even as he desired more, always _more._ It never seemed to be quite enough.

“Ren-” Hux was staring at him, single blue eye fixed on his face, and for a moment Kylo was certain he could read something strange on the man’s face, something new and different and he wasn’t certain that he liked it. It was gone, then, replaced by a surging desire that might have been near enough palpable.

“Be silent.” At any other time, Hux would likely have ignored his command, argued it even. Yet within those walls, just the two of them, he acquiesced without complaint, loosing only the smallest of whimpers as Kylo’s hands, stark white in contrast to the black of his clothing, slid around to unbuckle the belt that sat above the General’s jacket, tossing it away with a clatter. His pants were next, sliding down to almost his knees, bunching over the tops of his boots, leaving him exposed.

Kylo let slow, deliberate fingers trail up the inside of one freckled thigh, delighting in the shiver he earned at the barely-there touch, noting with interest how Hux shifted to spread his legs as wide as the stretch of fabric around his knees would allow. They had done this too many times, he thought, if the dance was starting to become routine.

Lubrication was never something they had particularly bothered with; Kylo enjoyed the near-painful press of muscle, and Hux had not complained, not even once. He had not bothered to ask if the man enjoyed the pain, did not particularly care, though judging from the way Hux reacted to his touch he suspected that he likely got more out of this than Kylo did.

Or _would_ get more out of it, possibly. Kylo wasn’t about to ask the man why he continued to initiate their encounters.

Fingers slick with spit and little else pressed between parted buttocks, finding the tight ring of muscle hidden there and pushing in, too fast and too hard and too _perfect_. Hux cried out at the intrusion, pressing back on the two digits that speared him, Kylo’s control over the Force slipping slightly as his breath caught, the wanton display before him entirely too distracting. He might have imagined the flicker of amusement on Hux’s face at his momentary loss of control, and whether he did or not the press of a third finger was enough to twist the man’s features into that delightful mix of pleasure and pain that Kylo so enjoyed witnessing.

“More!” The General put voice to the notion that had been hovering between them for too many minutes, that had coursed around Kylo’s mind since the first touch of skin against skin, and he found, for the first time, that he actually agreed with the man.

“No.” Grunting his reply, ignoring the way his own cock strained against the loose fabric of his pants, Kylo ran his free hand over the half-hard shaft of the General. The touch was not enough to provide any real relief, yet Hux whimpered low in his throat, torn between pushing forward into that slight touch, or back onto those invading fingers. He settled for a little of both, finding a stuttering pace as he fucked himself on Kylo’s hand, leather-clad fingers splayed against the metal grill.

“It’s not enough.” Hux whined, and the sound was entirely delicious. He should, he knew, draw it out for longer, prolong the agony for a while. A stronger man might have been able to refrain from giving in to Hux’s pleas, a _Jedi_ would have, but Kylo was neither of these things and oh how he _wanted_.

Freeing his straining shaft, Kylo pulled his fingers from the warm body before him, delighting in the cry of loss even as he spat into his palm. Three strokes of his cock were enough to coat it, the mixture of saliva and precum doing little to aid his entry as he pressed up against and into the other man.

Hux was hot, tight, releasing a pained gasp as the head of Kylo’s cock slid into place and it took everything he had not to simply plunge the entire length into that pliant, willing body, hands gripping slim hips hard enough to bruise. The push forward was agonising, too slow for what he needed and yet Kylo knew that, were he to go any faster, the damage he might do was entirely unacceptable. Not so much in regards to Hux; yes, it would tear the man open and leave him bleeding, but also for Kylo himself.

Because he did not care. Truly, he did _not_.

Pushing forward, always forward, it felt like an eternity before Kylo’s hips hit flesh and he could stop, fully seated. His blood roared in his ears, and yet even through the relentless din he could hear the shallow, gasping breaths from the body pinned beneath his own, feel the way Hux shivered under his hands. Drawing back, only half way, Kylo pressed forward once more, keeping his thrusts shallow, matching the breathing of the other man and earning a series of small whimpers.

“Please, harder!” A loud, keening whine filled the air, and Hux was pushing back, meeting every thrust with a wanton desire that only served to fuel Kylo’s frustration. Wrapping one arm around the General’s waist to keep him still, the other serving to pin Hux’s wrists above his head, Kylo relaxed his grip on the Force, focusing on the hot body beneath him and very little else.

As much as he hated giving Hux what he wanted, what he _asked_ for, there was something entirely addictive about listening to the man beg. So, without much thinking on the matter, he upped his pace, thrusting harder, pulling out far enough that the head of his cock almost slid free before slamming home once more. The pleasured wails spilling from between the General’s lips were loud enough to be heard several rooms over, and yet neither man cared, too lost in the sensations of the other.

It was over too soon, much too soon, walls clamping down on Kylo’s cock hard enough to almost still his motions entirely. Hux’s cry of completion echoed through the large space, white-hot pleasure lancing behind his eyes as he came hard, the evidence of their tryst spattering over the metal grating in long spurts. Kylo followed in kind, leaning in to bite into the dark fabric of Hux’s jacket as his own orgasm, his own cry lost to the General’s shoulder. He let the burst of pleasure wash over him, slamming home one final time as he spilled into the warm cavern that surrounded him.

Kylo remained still for several long minutes, holding Hux to his chest as he revelled in the remaining aftershocks of pleasure that tingled through him each time either one of them shifted even slightly. He could feel as Hux’s heart rate began to slow, breathing returning to normal, noting with some twisted sense of amusement how even that seemed to sync between them. It should have perhaps been a source of irritation, something to make him hate the man more. Yet, he remained calm, happily sated and with a clarity he had lacked for some time.

“I didn’t even need to touch you this time.” Kylo’s voice was low, husky, and perhaps a little mocking in tone. He felt Hux shiver against him, for once not bothering with a reply, or perhaps not able to. Pulling himself free, he tucked his softening cock back into his pants, watching with a vague disinterest as the General’s knees gave out without Kylo’s arm to hold him up, sliding to the floor with a small whimper. He looked utterly debauched; hair mussed out of the usual perfection that graced his head, a sheen of sweat over what skin was visible, bite marks evident around his mouth and with Kylo’s claim to him running down his bare thighs, tinged with red.

Hux was beautiful. Beautiful, and broken, and _his_. Turning on his heel, Kylo took a moment to replace his mask before striding from the room, not bothering to look back as the door slid shut behind him. His gloves remained, abandoned yet not forgotten, upon the floor beside the debauched General, waiting to be returned; a reason, an excuse. Nothing more.


End file.
